


Provide

by orphan_account



Series: Falling Differently [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 13:49:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Hales are the most powerful and respected pack in California. If they are unwilling to take Stiles and Isaac in, then there is no way he will be able to count on anyone else here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Provide

**Author's Note:**

> There may be lore and history brought in from the episodes post-Visionary, but there might not. For now, Visionary is the episode most pertinent to this series.

The next time Stiles wakes, it is to the faint sound of activity emanating from the area Derek disappeared to in the small hours of the morning in order to make Isaac's bottle. Normally, Stiles would be able to sleep through an earthquake. Naturally, when he needs sleep the most, he is unable to tune out the noises of his surroundings. Being in an unfamiliar place with a pack that is not his own, and a tiny life that is now entirely dependant upon him for safety, has him in a state of heightened awareness. Stiles is honestly surprised that he managed to get what little sleep he did the night before, but apparently days of not sleeping and eating properly will eventually force a person to slow down for a while.  
  
Speaking of eating.  
  
His stomach rumbles a prolonged reprimand for neglecting it for so long, and he sighs, hauling himself and his charge up from the couch. He supposes he really ought to feed himself, and he should definitely put together another bottle for Isaac. There’s also the matter of taking his Adderall, which he will need to see about procuring for however long the Hales will allow an orphaned emissary and werewolf to remain in their territory.  
  
Hopefully it will be a permanent solution to their recent uprooting. If not, Stiles will have to give serious consideration to relocating somewhere out of state. The Hales are the most powerful and respected pack in California. If they are unwilling to take Stiles and Isaac in, then there is no way he will be able to count on anyone else here.  
  
For now, though, his only plans are to rest and recuperate from the journey to Beacon Hills. To that end, he walks over to his bag, still lying near the chair Derek occupied last night, and carefully crouches down to search the middle pouch for a fresh bottle. The formula was never returned to its proper place after Derek absconded with it, so Stiles figures he will find it in the kitchen. Resolved, he stands up slowly, trying not to overbalance, and then follows the soft signs of activity echoing down the hall.  
  
Eventually, he enters a bright white room, the counters strewn with bowls and a discarded whisk and various other accoutrements intended for making breakfast. Derek has his back turned, focused on something that is clearly immensely important on the stove. The warm, salty, fatty scents of bacon and eggs scrambled with cheese caress his nostrils, along with the sweet, doughy smell of pancakes. Something dark and heady cuts through it all, and Stiles takes another whiff before asking wistfully, “Do I smell blueberries? Dude, are you making blueberry pancakes?”  
  
“I am - and don’t call me ‘dude’,” Derek orders, glancing at Stiles from over his shoulder. He takes in the fact that Stiles is still carting Isaac around in the sling with a slight furrow in his brow. “When breakfast is over, I’ll go up to the attic and get out the baby swing and one of our bouncy seats. You should be able to set the baby down every once in a while.”  
  
“Oh,” Stiles says softly, looking down at Isaac’s sleep-reddened cheeks. He isn’t sure how to articulate his reluctance to put the little guy down, or if he should say anything about it at all. Either way, the thought of actually letting go of Isaac, even for a moment, makes something tight and panicky take up residence in his chest. Fighting against whatever it is, Stiles scrounges up the manners his momma gave him. “Thanks. That’d be - thanks.” He can’t say that it would be great. Not without his heartbeat giving a bit of a hop-skip, anyway, and he has no desire to start his first day among the Hales by lying to one, no matter how well-intentioned the lie might be.  
  
Derek eyes him silently, as though he can see the source of Stiles’s discomfort, but he nods and turns back to the stove, choosing to flip a pancake rather than call Stiles out on his issues. Maybe he gets it, though. As a rule, werewolves are fiercely protective of their children. If Derek ever found himself alone with a cub from his pack among strange wolves, he would probably feel equally as wary.  
  
“So uh, I should make a bottle for this little guy and I’m pretty sure he needs a diaper change - actually,” he amends, “I probably should have done that last night.”  
  
Shaking his head, Derek tells him, “I would have let you know. He’s just a little wet.”  
  
“Oh. Good, then. So, I guess I’ll just - get that bottle ready.” He goes over to the sink, eyeing the filter appreciatively. He’d hated having to use straight tap water while he and Isaac were on the run - and there was that memorable trip to a gas station where he had to beg the clerk to heat up some water in the coffee pot sans any actual coffee. Stiles is pretty sure it was Isaac’s shrill wailing that finally convinced the guy, rather than a shred of compassion for their plight, in spite of all the evidence pointing to the fact that the babe and his caretaker - who, to be honest, is little more than a child himself - were trying to get out of a bad situation.  
  
When the water reaches a little under four ounces, Stiles shuts the filter and the faucet off and then casts about for the container of formula. He spots it in the corner, where the counter ends and the pantry begins. Wincing, he realizes he probably should have done the formula first. Most of the time he gets it right, but every once in a while, he gets it backwards, and the resulting bottle is a little lumpier than it should be. Thankfully, Isaac never seems to mind.  
  
Walking over to the counter, Stiles asks, “So when can we expect the rest of your pack to start showing up?”  
  
“Now.”  
  
Stiles jumps and then turns to see Talia entering the kitchen. He tries and fails to fight against a gulp.


End file.
